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Shadow Vol 2 1
First Touch is the first issue of the comic series reboot Shadow from Paragon Comics, written by TheRealSloth. Appearing in First Touch Featured Characters: *Maya Hathaway -First Appearance *Henry Dalton -First Appearance Supporting Characters: *Richard Dalton -First Appearance *Abigail Downer -First Appearance *Emmett Garner -First Appearance Villains: *Jackson Clemens -First Appearance Other/Minor Characters: *Jason Tanner -First Appearance Solicit Synopsis Callous teenager Maya investigates convicted killer Jackson Clemens. Issue 1: First Touch Anamosa State Penitentiary, Maximum Security Prison, Iowa, USA. The sound of twisting metal breaks the silence from within a dimly-lit prison cell, and a heavy grey door is pushed open from the outside. The silhouette of a guard peers down at the subject in disgust, a man hunched over and feeling the unfinished painted walls with his fingertips. Not a second passes before the guard hits his baton against the cell bars, the clanging sound sending a vibration through the inmate's spine. The man glares up at the correctional officer, the whites of his eyes incomparable to the shine of his smile. Officer: Up, Clemens. It's visitation. You have two seconds before I take your ass back to solitary. Clemens: This isn't solitary? The prisoner glared at the CO, his straight face turning to a sharp, fixed smile set by a strong jawline hidden behind a grizzled half-beard. It seemed more spacious in the other room, so what was the punishment? A break from these visits? Officer: I may not be a math teacher but I know two seconds are up. Clemens: Alright, I'm coming. The inmate held his hands up in surrender and hopped to his feet, gliding out the cell in an instant and stopping. Can you lead the way? It's been a while since I walked to the visitation block. Clemens's voice was smooth, almost soothing, but each sentence bumped in tone, as if a different voice and persona was taking the wheel. It wasn't annoying to hear, the guards would tolerate him if he didn't comment on every new stimuli. Officer: He points his baton past Clemens's shoulder down the hallway. Walk. I'll tell you when you need to turn. He pokes Clemens in the back to make him move, and he does, walking down the corridor. Clemens: You must be new here. I've never seen such a young face in these walls. Officer: I've worked here for five years, I'm not new, I'm not young. They needed more manpower in max, I was moved up. Clemens: Not young? You look far more youthful than I, what's your secret? Officer: I don't spend my days rotting in a cell. Turn right. Clemens: Right, you spend your days watching others rot in cells, sounds like the life of someone who was rotten inside to begin with. Officer: Try something wittier. Clemens: Sorry, my minds uh...a little groggy, you would think spending two years in the SHU would give you time to come up with some more inventive responses. No. All you can think about is- Officer: Another right. He commanded louder, interrupting the inmate on purpose. You can make this last trip in silence, visitation is right under that big sign that says Visitation. Clemens: You're not going to hold my hand on the way in? Officer: In silence, Clemens. He taps his baton lightly on the wall twice, alerting a guard down the hall near the Visitation Block entrance. Got another kinder for the garten! The officer at the end of the hall nods and enters a code for the door. Clemens smirks. Clemens: Witty. The officer behind him smacks the back of his head with his baton. Ow! Officer: Go, before I change my mind. Or would you rather collect teeth out of the shower drain? Clemens: He slightly turns back, friendly smiling and nodding in compliance, before turning back to head towards the visitation entrance. The guard at the door scans his prisoner ID tag attached to his uniform, and Clemens thanks him as the door is pushed open for him to walk through. The guard points him to his booth of many, and Clemens sits on the uncomfortable stool provided. He was a rather large man, built not by work but by genetics, and so found it rather tough to sit himself on a small seat, but nevertheless he endured and looked ahead, grabbing the wall-phone beside him and staring past the glass shield at the visitor sitting across. Greetings... Clemens uttered in a surprisingly deep voice, much below his regular tone, putting on an exaggerated wolfish grin. Visitor: Our first conversation in two years, Clemens, and you address me with an impression? A man responded through the other interconnected phone from the opposite side of the glass panel, his voice almost as deep and strong as the one Clemens was faking. Clemens: Oh, not impressed by my impression? He replied in his regular voice, appearing offended. I have several more prepared, I had plenty of time to work on them. I have one of Eddie Murphy, one of CO Charles, one of Ted Bundy, one of a whimpering little girl, which was, admittedly, hard to get right naturally- Visitor: Are you finished? They only allow five minutes, and there's news to discuss. The visitor was staring at Clemens with a tilted face of disappointment and a voice of urgency, commanding obedience with every imperative stroke of his tongue. Clemens: Yes, yes, I forgot how boring you were, Richard. Visitor: Dalton. I am your attorney, not your brother. We will address each other with formalities. Clemens: Oh who are you trying to impress? It won't offend me to hear you say my name in that dominating voice of yours. Dalton: Clemens. The man responded sharply. Clemens: I actually meant Jackson. Dalton: Four minutes to discuss positive news, I didn't drive all this way- Clemens: Yes, exactly, so out with it, stop beating around the bush and tell me this news. Dalton: He pauses and breathes in, and, his manner of speech structured and organised, segues straight into his next sentence as if reading from an invisible blueprint. As per our discussion ending with the letter I sent you last Tuesday, I have the results from the hearing. It was a tough battle with the Judge, but it is settled. I have gotten you moved down to Medium Security. Clemens: His eyes shift, fixated on Dalton. Intriguing... How did you achieve that? I thought they wanted my head once. Dalton: Nonsense, as long as I am your lawyer, your head will remain in its rightful place. Clemens: It's a matter of debate as to where the 'right' place is... Dalton: I know where it is and should be, they are one and the same. As long as you agree, it will stay that way. Clemens: Oh I agree, but is it currently in danger? Can they kill me even after nine years? Dalton: You are a prisoner, the way they see it, the way you should see it, is that your life is always in danger. Capital punishment may be outlawed in the state of Iowa, but there are less legal ways to have a man executed. Watch your back in there. Clemens: I'm cautious enough of the multitude of murderous fans in here, never thought they'd be sent by someone on the outside however. Dalton: It happens more than you'd believe. Now, we've drawn on too long. The judge ruled on the grounds that, after your recent two-year visit to administrative segregation, you have had a decent time to reassess your behaviour and violent tendencies. I have suggested... Clemens: Lies. Dalton: ...that you require a psych re-evaluation, your court case was certainly not in line with typical criminal behaviour, it was a premature ruling to not place you in special containment. Clemens: I don't need to be put in an asylum. Dalton: It is a step closer to having your sentence reduced. A psych re-evaluation is only possible on medium to minimum security prisoners, they ponder no harsh judgement on maximum inmates. Clemens: So why are they moving me down? Dalton: I was getting there. I did throw you the idea of entering a religious program, in our mail discussion, correct? Well, I referred back to the court, and they were adamant, mostly because of how a raised-Catholic man praised Satan during his court hearing. Clemens: I happen to be a devout follower of LaVeyan teachings. Clemens stated in a matter-of-fact tone. Dalton: As you informed me. I used this to our advantage, and it turns out there is an outdated underfunded LaVeyan Church gathering in the chapel in Medium Security. The Judge agreed this would help you express your opinion to another human, and respond to another's words, something you must've missed deeply in your segregation. Clemens: It was hard, truly. His voice quivered with sadness, but his eyes didn't frown with him. Dalton: It would allow us to help you adjust to working with others, and thus with a psychiatrist. He leaned forward. This is good news, Clemens. I worked tirelessly for this opportunity. Please, do not spoil your opportunity. This is all under the very fragile condition that you no longer cause a single violent disruption in the Medium Cell Block. Don't forget why you were thrown in segregation in the first place. Clemens: I haven't. Dalton: Good. Now, it is time for us to part ways. Goodbye. Clemens: Yes, thank you, Dalton. I will enjoy the softer pillows. Day by day, we come closer to experiencing the same comfort. Your efforts mean a great deal to me. If this glass wasn't here, I wouldn't resist the urge to hug you. Dalton: He pauses briefly. Your attorney, not your bro- The line gets cut off, as the visitation timed out. A guard approaches Clemens as Dalton gets up to leave. Officer: Come on, Clemens. Play-time's over. Durant, School for Teenage Therapy, therapeutic boarding school in St. Louis, Missouri, USA. Despite the troubling name, this school was filled with laughter, at this time. Children of many ages were playing and joking and talking, the sound of a TV blaring out the sounds of a colourful cartoon, it was a musical atmosphere. This was the occurrence of the school common room during recreational hours, the children were allowed two hours to do as they pleased, usually anticipating when the clock struck five minutes and it was the next child's turn to snatch control over the TV's remote. Such a happy environment for children of broken homes and traumatic backgrounds, though not all were feeling so cheerful. One specific girl of seventeen years of age, Maya, was sitting on a colouring desk, awaiting for an opportunity to spark some proper entertainment. A girl of lean stature, and long chestnut brown hair which she kept tucked away. Her green eyes were vigilant, her face indifferent, and she never seemed too comfortable where she stood. Laughter was all good and well to hear, but Maya preferred to hear her own, and this wasn't usually the case when others were laughing with her. She had nothing to do but observe the watchful eyes of the prefects planted in each corner of the room, one right beside her, her absent-minded and dramatic acquaintance, Abigail. Maya's eyes shifted to the TV as the next student went to collect the remote control as it was their turn. It was one of the older students, boringly analytical as the adults have groomed the students to be, and they decided to fit right into their stereotype and switch to the news channel. The younger students collectively groaned, and Maya decided to look at the TV, she had nothing better to do. It was a news report about something inconsequential to Maya, so her eyes scrolled down upon the news feed at the bottom of the screen, containing different stories in each sentence, but one specific sentence caught her attention. "Serial killer Jackson Clemens moving down to Medium Security at Anamosa State Penitentiary in Iowa." Maya: No... Her mind went back as her skin crawled with panic, that name was too familiar, one she never wanted to see appear, especially on the news. If she ignored it, perhaps it would fade away. Of course, she wasn't so lucky, the screen faded to black and a new news reporter came up. They began talking about what Maya had just read, about a serial killer attending Anamosa State Penitentiary who was being moved down from Maximum Security, a serial killer Maya knew, and now everyone in the room was hearing alongside her. News Reporter: ...the gruesome story has remained one of internet horror stories and occult myths, spawning a huge following of horror enthusiasts across the bordering states. But of course, the real story is one we wish to be untold, for it is far more horrifying. Not many tell the true events, and so we will show a clip from an upcoming documentary detailing the events of the brutal crime and answering the question of who really is Jackson Clemens, the man behind the murders, also known infamously as the "Midnight Murderer of Missouri", as the press had named. Maya: She couldn't let these people hear this, the other children were already excitedly watching to hear the story about to be presented, she had to stop this. She quickly jumped to her feet and headed towards the single student sitting in a chair, holding power of the TV remote. She blocked his view of the TV and stood close by him and held her hand out. Give me the remote. Her voice wasn't friendly here, it was shaking. Student: Maya, move! You're in the way. Maya: I said give me the remote! She kept her voice low, to not alert the prefects. Student: Look at the chart, it's my turn to watch. Maya: Then change the damn channel, I don't want to hear this. Student: Then go outside, we wanna see it. Maya: I don't care, hand it over! Student: Maya, seriously, back off- Maya quickly moved her hands, grabbing the remote. The boy didn't let go so easily, and the two struggled for control over it. Hey! Maya: Change. It. She was pressing down at the remote, the boy stood up to pull it back as Maya attempted to pry it from his hands. She pulled him closer and aimed the remote at the TV, hearing the documentary playing. TV: All these myths meet at one point, Jackson Clemens, who is currently serving life without parole for double homicide under aggravating circumstances at Anamosa State Penitentiary, a Maximum Security prison in Iowa. Maya: This she did not want to hear, and would not accept hearing any further. She forced the boy's finger to press a button, changing the channel, the other kids groaning. She was attracting the attention of the prefects, who couldn't quite see what was happening. Maya grew desperate, and decided to crush his hands, hearing a plastic crack as the remote snapped in half. The boy gasped, as Maya stepped back, the two parts of the remote hitting the floor. Dude, what did you do?! You broke it! Student: W-what?! That's your fault, you tried to take it from me! Maya: I asked you politely to change the channel, just because you got angry and broke it doesn't mean it's my fault. Student: That's not true, I swear... The other students were watching the scene, and the prefects were stepping in, Maya had to leave before any witness joined in, and so she quickly ran outside the common room and onto the school grounds. It was a sunny day but it was equally dull as the sparse rainy days in this troubling school, heading outside, no matter the weather, just made Maya feel sick. She heard the students inside complaining, but she didn't care, that news story, it stuck in her mind. Maya ran off, heading around the common room and towards the edges of the field, near the wall that fenced off the school from the outside world. There were bushes lining the sides of the field, and Maya approached these, and was about to kneel over to a patch of dirt hidden in the bushes, but halted as she heard footsteps behind her. Voice: Maya! Maya: What? She turned around and saw a girl with long dark hair, curly and with random patches of blonde highlights. Of course, this girl's hair seemed as disorganised as the girl herself, it was Maya's so-called friend Abigail. Oh, it's you, Abbie. You're following me again? I didn't take anyone's crayons. Abigail: You broke the remote, I saw the whole thing! Maya: I didn't break sh*t! It would've been fine if he wasn't holding it. Abigail: Don't swear at me, Maya, it's a bad habit. Maya: You're literally a walking bag of bad habits, Abbie. Sort yourself out before coming after me. Abigail: Don't change the subject, you broke something, that's a violation. Maya: Holy crap, calm down. "Violation", you make it sound like murder. Abigail: Murder is also a violation. Maya: Okay, so go look out for those. Abigail: Vandalism is far more likely to happen in school, and I just caught you doing it. Maya: Did you? I mean, are you sure you caught me? You do tend to lie a lot, right? I know I didn't break anything. You know I didn't break anything. Is there a possibility that what you're saying is just...another lie? I'm not saying you're a fault, it's compulsive, right? It's fine to just admit it... Abigail: Wait...what? But I saw you, I'm not...lying. Maya: Are you absolutely sure, though, Abigail? Are you sure you don't want to write it in your notebook, and let the lie stay inside? Abigail looked at her confused, pulling out a small notebook from her pocket, with her name scribbled on in different coloured pencils. Abigail: I'm only supposed to write lies in here. Maya: Exactly, so write this in here and drop this before an adult finds out, save the embarrassment. We don't need another toilet paper situation. Abigail: No... No, I know what I saw, Maya! Don't trick me, I saw you break it, the only thing I'm writing is a note to Miss. Knight! Maya: Ugh, you're so difficult! Maya quickly dives her hand forward, snatching Abigail's notebook from her and holding it away. Abigail: Hey! Give it back, no one's supposed to have that! Maya: I don't care. Forget about this and leave. Abigail: Give it back, Maya! Okay, I won't tell anyone! Maya: Haha, that's not how this works, Abbie. Why would I trust you, you can't stop spouting BS from your mouth even if you wanted. Abigail: You're going to have to give it back anyway, if I leave a teacher will come and you'll have to return it! Maya: Not if I destroy it. With one hand Maya holds out the notebook, and she uses her free hand to dig into her pocket and pull out a lighter. She ignites it and holds the flame close to Abigail's notebook. Abigail: Maya, stop! This is definitely vandalism! Maya: Go cry about it on a note, I couldn't care less. Abigail: Please don't burn it! Maya: I won't if you get out of here and never tell anyone about this. I'm keeping it for now, but if any teacher finds out about this, I'll light up your precious notebook like tinder Abigail: I won't, just give it to me! Maya: That's not the deal, quickly, it burns fast! Maya holds the flame even closer, slightly burning the corner of the cover. Abigail: Fine, just give it back later! Maya quickly shuts the lighter and blows the notebook, and Abigail, on the verge of tears, runs off. Maya: Finally... Like I'd waste good fuel on this thing. She places both the notebook and lighter in her pocket, and now that she was alone and Abigail had left, she knelt over to the bushes. Using her hands, she dug into a patch of dirt, and buried underneath was a mobile phone, covered in dirt. She picked it up and switched it on, it was still working, the battery half consumed. Maya smirked, and opened up the messages application. Anamosa State Penitentiary, Iowa. Inmate Clemens was being escorted by two new correctional officers in different uniforms, out from his usual cell. He was smirking more than usual, excited. Clemens: Ah, finally. I hope I haven't missed lunch. CO: There's no need to speak. Clemens: What a fun prison. Will all the guards be this introverted in Medium? CO: Am I not speaking American? Clemens: Time to see my going-away party... The guards pulled Clemens through the prison halls, past a whole corridor of prison cells. The prisoners watched Clemens leave and started yelling, some jealous and some angry. They were throwing toilet paper from their cells at both the guards and Clemens. The guards didn't react, Clemens expected as much, they're definitely from the Medium Security Cell Block. Yes, yes, goodbye my friends! I'll be enjoying the extra hour of yard time in your honour! Of course, this won't be goodbye, perhaps you can join me down in Medium! Be on your best behaviour and you will! Clemens dramatically waved at his fellow Max inmates, the guards were annoyed and walked faster, hurrying Clemens towards the four set of metal doors leading outside. Woah, slow down, don't want to trip or we'll all go down. CO: Inside. Just as Clemens had caught a glimpse of the sunlight, he was thrown into the back of an armoured van. The two guards joined him inside, two more guards were already sitting in. They began chaining his legs and arms, as the other guards slammed the doors after getting in, cutting off the sunlight and leaving them to sit in darkness, before a guard pressed a ceiling button, turning on a single light, enough to illuminate parts of everyone's faces. Four guards, one criminal, in a crowded, heavily armoured transportation van, and Clemens was in cuffs that were crushing his joints, on top of already being squished by the two guards beside him wearing uniforms resembling riot gear. Clemens: Well, this is comfor- CO: Shut the f*ck up, Clemens. I don't want to share breath with you. Clemens: Rude... Just making conversation, it's a... mile long trip to the Medium and Minimum blocks, right? CO: When the Hell did it become illegal to beat inmates? The other guards chuckled. CO: Never, not when we're here. Clemens began chuckling with them. And when the f*ck did this become a circus, Clemens? You laugh again and you eat a taser. Clemens: First time for everything. CO: This is a sick joke, who the f*ck let this sicko out of Max? CO: Another CO replied. The same tard that let him out of solitary. Two years in that place isn't enough for this beast. Clemens: He leaned over to one of the COs next to him and whispered. I wonder who he was referring to when he said beast. CO: The one he leaned into nudged his head away from him with his shoulder. F*ck off of me. How did you not get the chair? Clemens: They thought it'd be funnier to have me annoy the inmates into suicide- CO: Chair? Nah, this f*ck is from Missouri, they do lethal injections there. Boring sh*t. CO: Missouri? Why the Hell is he all the way out here? This system is trash. Assh*le like this can murder a little girl's parents and cannibalise them- Clemens: Hey, excuse me?! I never did such a thing, if I cannibalised anyone, I would remember the taste. CO: Whatever, degenerates like you are all the same, all you need is an opportunity. God help that little girl if they didn't catch you in time. Clemens: Such bothersome law enforcement, interrupting our celebration and dragging me to this musical institution. CO: Ugh, this b*stard is turning my stomach. Clemens: Is that an offer? The guards exchanged looks, one of them nodded and yawned, stretching his arms, slowly blocking the camera in the corner of the van. I would yawn too if I wasn't shackl- He quickly received a blow from a baton across his cheek, almost knocking him out of his seat, but his chains kept him upright. He groaned loudly from the pain and looked up, one of the officers had struck him, and was preparing to do so again. CO: You're in here to be f*cking punished! You don't get to joke around, you sick f*ck! He cocked his arm back for another hit, but his fellow officer grabbed his arm, stopping him. CO: No bruises, you can beat him inside. The camera was unblocked now by the yawning guard, and they returned to their seats as normal. Clemens was no longer speaking, but had a light smile. The van stopped, and they began unchaining him and opened the backdoors. They took Clemens out of the van, and again, the sunlight briefly struck him but was taken away when he was taken inside a new building, the Medium Security Cell Block. Clemens was brought into a hallway where prisoners were roaming freely, but upon seeing him they started angrily yelling, cautious not to approach the guards escorting him. Clemens couldn't hold back a huge smile. Clemens: I have fans in Medium too? Lovely. CO: Some of them moved down from Max, some very violent criminals. They sacrificed their dignity for a few minutes and were unfairly dropped down a security level. I would stay away from them if I were you. They're not so tolerating of Max-murderers in this block. Clemens: I've been in Max my whole sentence, the guards there pay for inmate fights. I can handle some overzealous fans. CO: You know when Max Guards get older, they tend to move down a security level. They stop giving a sh*t about prisoner lives. Don't consider yourself in a safe zone, Medium isn't some p*ssy Minimum Security block. This is Max 2.0. Clemens: Lovely. Clemens gets pushed forward by the guards into the crowd of inmates, the guards tell them to quiet down but they don't, and continue swearing at Clemens. He casually walks through the crowd, and two or three inmates push his shoulder as he walks. The rest don't dare interfere, and the crowd seems to back away the closer he gets. Clemens reaches the end of the crowd and approaches one inmate who is shorter than himself and doesn't seem to be swearing at him, instead seeming rather scared. You, fellow inmate. You seem like a junkie. Can you point out to me where Jason Tanner is? Inmate: Uh...the Chapel, it's faith hours... Clemens: Of course he's there. Mind pointing out the direction? I have some sins to face. The inmate points down a hall, and Clemens thanks him. Clemens then walks in the direction of the prison's Chapel, and finds the entrance open. There was a sermon being held, it had just ended and the inmates were leaving the chapel. Next to the doors was a schedule on the wall, time slots for each religion. Christianity had just finished it seems, and ironically they placed a LaVeyan sermon straight after, at no surprise to Clemens. The guard beside the door was not paying attention, it was much calmer in Medium. Clemens headed in, past the group of exiting inmates and saw that a few inmates were still getting ready to leave. He had recognised one sitting there, an older man hunched over, and so Clemens slid towards and sat down on the pew directly behind his. Clemens leaned forward and rested his arms and chin on the back of the man's pew like a child, then tapped his back. The man angrily turned around, he didn't look like he wanted to be rushed. Hello El Chapo. Inmate: What?! Oh...oh God, Jackson... Clemens: I'm glad we're on a first name basis, we're still friends it seems, Jason. Tanner: Friends?! You... hurt me. Clemens: Oh what, that thing? Clemens pointed at Jason's face, he had an aged scar across his cheek. We were play-fighting! I was helping you look tough in front of your underlings. Tanner: You beat me... Clemens: Oh every drug runner has to have scars, to look tough, right? Besides, it was an accident, my thumb nail accidentally scratched you when I was holding your face. Tanner: And my leg? Clemens: Excuse me? He asked curiously. Tanner: My leg, you stomped right through my shin! He held out his leg which was held with supports. Clemens: I don't recall. You're missing a patch of hair, did you get brain surgery? Tanner: Why are you acting like you didn't almost kill me? His voice sounded weak and unstable. Clemens: Whatever happened, happened two years ago. Get over it. I had to spend this whole time in the SHU. Yes, I just got out last week. Tanner: I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't tell them to do that, I don't want any trouble Jackson. Clemens: Me neither, but I see you were moved down to Medium Security in my absence. Tanner: Cost me more money than I had. H-how did you move down? Clemens: Well, I'm not a rich drug lord, but I have a fantastic lawyer. But hey, we both moved down, now we can continue our partnership! Tanner: I thought you said you hated my business and wanted nothing to do with it. Clemens: And I don't. When I was in solitary, I heard of you moving down here, one or two of the guards in Max you still have power over, I heard them talking. Tanner: I don't run anything anymore. I'm down here to get out of it. I just wanted to confess and spend my time with God. Clemens: A devout Catholic, I respect that, I was once one too. But then something came down onto me. He holds Tanner's shoulder so he can't get up, as the next event starts and only a couple inmates walk in, and the Chapel begins a new speech describing a form of Satanism, and Tanner is visibly uncomfortable. Tanner: I shouldn't be in here. Clemens: Relax, this isn't devil-worship. I just want to talk to you, this is my only opportunity. Tanner: What do you want? Look, I'm sorry, I didn't want to fight you, I'm done with that life, I stopped beating the other inmates, that was all in Max, I had to be scary to keep my rep. Clemens: It was a very cruel thing to do, I thought at first. Of course, you were only having them beaten up so they could get sent to solitary for fighting, I realise that now. You were just getting rid of your enemies and I intervened. I fell for your joke and ended there myself. Tanner: I was a sinful person before, I am a different man now. I don't hurt anyone anymore. A mock sermon was being held in the background, and Tanner glanced over and was increasingly nervous. Clemens: Really? You shouldn't lie in the house of...God. No one has a scheme that big in these walls and just drops it all to celebrate Christmas. You still run drugs around here in Medium, smaller scheme but you still do. Tanner: We all repent in our own ways. Clemens: I agree wholeheartedly. I have my way, but it isn't so simple, I don't have the respect you do. I need you to help me repent. Clear the debt you owe me. Tanner: I told you, no more trouble. If you want me to get someone beaten up, I can't help you. Clemens: I don't want that, not exactly. I don't care how it's done, but I need the rooms of solitary filled up. Tanner: What? Why? Nevermind, how? Clemens: You still have control over the inmates here, probably the guards too. You want out of that life? Get your own men sent up to solitary. I don't care how, bribe them, get them into fights, just do it. I need at least twenty to be sure, and it has to happen now. Tanner: That's crazy, if they find out I'm sending them all there at once, I'll lose everything. Clemens: As you wanted. Tanner: I'll lose my life. Clemens: I can take care of that right here and now. He squeezes Tanner's shoulder, his voice growing more gravelly. But I need to repent. This is the only thing that will smooth things over between us. Doing this will rid you of your whole drug scheme, a whole load of sinful behaviour. Trust me, Hell is a lot worse than Max. Tanner: Fine, but this is the last sin I commit. Clemens: Glad we could work things out. If you don't deliver, I'll know. Goodbye, Jason. Clemens quickly stands up and leaves the mock sermon early, heading out the doors as Tanner sighs heavily to himself. Durant, School for Teenage Therapy. It was later in the day, and Maya had headed behind the school. There was an old backup generator behind the school building connecting to the gates, and Maya climbed on top of this. It brought her high enough that she could jump over the gate, landing in a small alley behind the school and outside, out of sight of the streets and school itself. It was a useful escape from the school that no staff had known about, Maya liked to pride herself on discovering it, whether it was an obvious escape or not. When she landed in the alleyway, she saw a man standing there, wearing a long coat and with a thin five o'clock shadow beard, dirty blond hair and a friendly, pitiful smile. He took his hand out of his pocket and waved at Maya, and she approached him casually. Maya: Hey. Man: Hey... Maya: She hated greetings, she didn't know what to say. She leaned against the wall and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, the one from earlier. Do you want one? Man: What?! Where did you get those? Maya: Took them off a caretaker. Man: You shouldn't be smoking. Maya: Neither should he. That's why I took them. Really I just wanted the lighter. Man: I'll take them, addicted to these... He grabbed the whole packet and lit one cigarette, keeping the rest in his pocket then returning the lighter hesitantly but Maya snatched it before he changed his mind. So...how's school? Maya: Ugh, who cares? We have something bigger to talk about, Harry. Harry: It's about the Clemens thing, right? Maya: Yeah no sh*t, what's that about? How did he get moved to Medium Security? What's wrong with that damn prison?! Harry: I don't know, I don't think they had much of a say in this. It's a court issue. Maya: Did you find out why he moved? Harry: No. Maya: I thought you were a private investigator. Can you actually investigate? Harry: I don't work at the prison or the court. I'm looking into it, it's hard to get access to this information. Especially when you're working freelance for some teenager. Maya: Are you trying to coerce money out of me? Harry: What, no. And you're the one extorting services out of me. Maya: It's not blackmail if you were going to do it anyway. Harry: I would've preferred to investigate Clemens alone, but hey, now I got a cheery teenager to deliver information to like a pigeon. He was still holding the cigarette, but hadn't used it since. Maya: Yeah and if you don't, I can just as easily deliver some information to your husband, I have his number remember? A premium package deal of incrimination all on your old phone. She pulls out the phone that she had previously buried underground. Harry: Yeah yeah I know, just saying. It's just pretty hard to get information from a Maximum Security inmate. Maya: But he's not Maximum Security anymore, is he? Thanks to your damn husband. Harry: Hey, Richard isn't the enemy here. Maya: He's his f*cking lawyer, he's the only one who could've gotten him moved down, he's the only one actually on his side! Harry: I know, but still... Maya: It's because of him that Clemens isn't dead right now, without him Clemens would had been fed a healthy dose of potassium chloride on a gurney by now. Harry: I know... Maya: It's because of that freaking Mr. Dalton that he escaped death, and is laughing it up in prison, and it's only time before he's in Minimum Security, and then what? Out on the streets by tomorrow? Harry: I know, Maya. But Richard is being paid, he's doing his job. Maya: Working to help a psychopath, he's just as bad. Why haven't you divorced that sh*tface by now? He's just as corrupt as this damn justice system. Harry: Woah, Maya, stop there. That's enough. Focus on the real enemy here. The man who actually orphaned you. Let's not disregard your only friends here, there's no two sides to this, so don't forget I'm the only one willing to help you here. I see the injustice being done, my husband is a good man too, he just thinks Clemens is insane and needs to be moved to the psychiatric ward of the prison. He's not sympathetic to the murders, he just sees too much good in people. Maya: He's delusional. Harry: Be that as it may, he's not a target, for attack or discussion. He still hadn't taken the cigarette and it was burning out. Maya: Fine. But remember why I keep calling you here every week. I need information on that demon. He's in Medium now, your husband accidentally did one useful thing and that's make it easier to get info. I want you to visit him. Harry: In prison? Maya: What do you think, Henry? She said in a sarcastic, male voice, mocking his husband. Of course! Harry: It would take... weeks to get me on his visitation list. He chuckled. Maya: Your husband is already on his visitation list, use his name. Harry: Are you crazy? If I get caught, I could be in a lot of trouble. Maya: That's on your skills as an investigator, not on me. Harry: I'm sorry, Maya, but no. Maya: But...that man murdered my parents, I thought you saw the injustice, that you wanted to help me...I thought you cared, unlike so many others who just tell me it's going to be alright and they'll hug me and hold me the whole way, you actually helped me, even before I threatened you... Maya's voice went lower, and Harry sighed squeezing his eyes before speaking. Harry: Fine, fine! I'll do it, I'll see what I can juice out of this jerk. Maya: That sounds disgusting. Harry: I've been told to think more before I speak. Anyway, if that's all... He dropped the cigarette as it had burned out. Guess I'm off to chat with a serial killer. Wait, is he a serial killer? He only killed the one time...man, the news station needs to review their terminology. Maya: Go. Harry: Gone. He waved, departing the alleyway. Once Maya heard a car drive off, she climbed the gate and landed back inside the school, but she wasn't alone when she landed. A boy was watching, shorter than her and wearing a hoodie and jeans. Maya: What do you want, Emma? Emmett: Stop calling me that, it's Emmett! Maya: I asked you something. Emmett: What were you doing outside? Maya: I can sense you don't care. Emmett: I don't, everyone sneaks out. Unless you're a dizzy beta like half the prefects who have those stupid leaving privileges. Maya: Why are you stalking me again? Emmett: I'm not! I just wanted to speak, I saw you come here after class. And earlier with Abigail, I saw you bury a phone here. Maya: So you were stalking Abigail? Emmett: Shut up! You made her cry, and took her notebook. You're such an assh*le to everyone, Maya, you don't deserve to keep a phone around! Maya: Okay. Emmett: That's why I'm telling one of the caretakers, you can't threaten me like you did her. Maya: Jeez, you're really into her that much? Emmett: She's my friend, I hate seeing her upset. You'll suffer for that. Maya: I will? I told Abbie what'll happen if something happens to me after our discussion. She pulls out the lighter and Abigail's notebook. I'll burn it. Emmett: I don't care about that, I'm telling everyone about your phone. You're screwed. Maya: So you came here to gloat about how you caught me? You're so pathetic, you keep stalking this girl, she won't fall for you because of it. You think she'll recognise your nonexistent efforts to come here and threaten me? You're an idiot, Emma. Emmett: Shut up, why are girls so mean here, you can't even recognise when I'm doing something nice to for you. Maya: Is this a nice thing? Emmett: What do you know about anything, I'm done talking to you. Maya: Dude, here. She tossed Abigail's notebook to him. Return it to her. You're her hero. Now leave me alone. Emmett: His vitriolic tone turned calm. Thanks, Maya. He smiled, looking down at the notebook and headed off, Maya rolling her eyes at the pointless situation. Anamosa State Penitentiary, Iowa. The Visitation Block, Clemens was brought here by a guard, he had a visitor, and the only person to be on his list was his lawyer Richard Dalton. It was a new visitation room, while the one in Max had booths with glass shields separating the prisoner and visitor, this one had chairs and tables, where multiple visitors could come and see an inmate, hug them and kiss them, it was much more friendly and comfortable here. Clemens was escorted in by a guard, and more guards were posted here than usual, they didn't trust Clemens. He found this amusing, and walked in the room confidently. He looked around at the families and inmates for his table, and when he located it he approached it, noticing something odd. The man standing near his table wasn't his lawyer Richard Dalton, it was something else, a stranger to Clemens, it was Harry Dalton. Regardless, Clemens approached him without breaking pace, and reached out for a handshake and gave a bright smile, both gestures being unreturned. Harry stared at him with a dead glare, Clemens held it too with a grin, until the two decided to sit down simultaneously, opposite each other. Clemens: Well, you look a decade younger. Why does everyone my age look better than me after coming out of solitary for two years? Harry: Cut the sh*t, Clemens, we need to talk. Clemens: We do? Who are you, I only have one name on my visitation list and it's not you. Harry: Who I am isn't important right now. You know, I've never seen you face to face before, I kept imagining you'd have this evil aura around you and in your eyes, some sort of Michael Myers dead-stare. But no, you're just this brutish man, and that makes you all the more disgusting. Clemens: Beautiful. Now, you may not have seen my face up close before, but I have seen your husband's many times. Harry: Husband? You don't really know who I am, do you? Clemens: Don't lie to me, you're Henry Dalton. My lawyer's husband. A private investigator. Harry: Okay, how did you know? Clemens: While you investigate me, I've been doing some investigation of my own. Information can flow in and out of a prison. I need background checks on my attorney. Harry: No matter what you know, it won't help you in there. You're in for double homicide, your crime was aggravating, what you did to the bodies, it's not something you can get off lightly with. You're in without parole, you're never getting out of prison. Clemens: I think you're jumping to conclusions here. Why did you even come? Where's my lawyer? Harry: Conclusions? How did you even drop down from Max? Clemens: I am a man of community, I wanted to join my brothers in debate, within the LaVeyan Chapel. It's a harmonising experience, only offered in Medium unfortunately. Harry: Medium... I can't believe they didn't kill you in Missouri. I swear, every day you spend breathing is an insult, to justice, to that innocent little girl you ruined the life of- Clemens: Ah yes, sweet Maya. I remember that one. So cute, I remember her blowing out the candles of her fifth birthday, the cake, it was a donkey, that one from the book, with the yellow bear. I bought that one. Harry: You are horrible, how can you even say her name? I promise you, you will be spending your life in a supermax one day, you will not have a comfortable moment in your life from then onwards in prison, not while I'm breathing. The law has failed to put you down like the dog you are, but it will not fail to shackle you up to your neck in restraints. Clemens: I assure you, no one will feel insulted longer. That girl, I hope to see her, I made a promise to her and I must deliver it, she deserves it. I will be seeing her soon if everything goes well. Harry: Ugh, you won't ever see daylight, especially if it's anywhere near that girl. You will rot in this place. Clemens: Bold claims. Say hi to Maya for me, so she isn't surprised when I say it in person. It would be best if I make it to my niece's eighteenth birthday. Harry: F*ck you, Clemens. She is not your niece, she's not related to you in the slightest. You lost all right to be her uncle when you betrayed and slaughtered your best friends. Clemens: I don't understand how such stories are relevant. Harry: Stories?! He bangs the table, but calms down once the guards glance over. You are vile, Jack. Nothing more. Clemens: I regret missing all her past birthdays, and so I've been preparing the little pumpkin a gift, to make up for it. Harry: A gif- Clemens quickly springs up from his seat, diving towards Harry and gripping his head with both hands. He wraps his fingers around him tightly, and places his thumbs over his eyes but only covers them. Harry begins screaming as the guards rush over. Clemens: Sssshhhhh... it's.... it's alright... The guards grab him from behind but he doesn't budge. A guard pulls out a baton and bashes Clemens on the head, forcing him to let Harry go, who falls back into his seat. One guard takes Harry and guides himself outside, as Clemens is dragged away. Harry hears Clemens laughing loudly in the distance, but is now taken outside the building by a guard. They ensure he is fine before letting him leave, he rushes out and is heavily breathing. Harry quickly gets into his car and buries his head on the steering wheel, completely shocked. He takes out his phone, ready to call his husband Richard in panic, but notices something in his phone's reflection and stops hyperventilating. His eyes, they are completely blacked out. Durant, School for Teenage Therapy, Iowa. It is early night, and Maya had received a strange text. She didn't bury her phone today, she didn't exactly trust Emmett and was awaiting information, she kept it in her pillow. The text she just received was from Harry, he told her to meet him outside the school. Maya was in her dorm room, but wasn't asleep. Instantly, she listened and snuck out, jumping the fence and landing in the alleyway behind the school. She looked around and saw Harry sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall, mouth buried in his sleeve. Maya: Harry? What the F? Harry: There was a ten second pause before he said anything. I...saw Clemens today. In prison. He was saying...all sorts of strange crap, that he has a gift for you and that... he'll be seeing you soon. Cryptic sick f*ck... Maya: Uh... Um, get off the ground, Harry. She tries to force him off his feet, and then he gives in and gets up along her but she quickly stops, noticing his eyes are completely pitch black, darker than the night sky. Henry, your eye- Before she can finish, he quickly thrusts forward, with one hand he grips her throat and slams her against the closest wall. With raw, unknown strength, she is pushed hard up against the cold wall, off her feet and closing her throat. Maya struggles to make a sound, and Harry places his forehead against the same wall, eyes shut and appearing to be struggling as much as Maya. Her throat is cold, and the chilling terror spreads across her body. To prevent him strangling her to death, she musters her last might, and swings her leg, kicking him straight in the stomach. She knocks the wind out of him and he loosens his grip, Maya drops straight to the floor, a thud and a shriek of pain escape her, followed by large gasps of air. She had never felt her life drain away, and certainly had not come so close to death. What the f*ck?! You, trying to f*cking kill...! Screw you! Harry: Maya? He was standing straight, staring at her strangely, talking calmly. What's wrong? Maya quickly swings her fist, punching him straight in the nose. He is forced back, and before he can react, Maya had jumped the fence back inside the school. She quickly runs to her dorm room, closing the door and locking it. She turns on a lamp near her window, and holds up her head, observing her neck as it has red handprints pressed onto it. Maya: That damn... She throws a multitude of swears at Harry under her breath, but she stops instantly. She notices that in the mirror, the light of the nearby lamp had created a shadow behind her, that began to grow larger and larger, against the wall behind her. She slowly turned around, seeing that this shadow wasn't her ordinary silhouette, no, it was physical, solid, it wasn't against the wall at all, it was standing right in front of her, staring back at her. Category:Shadow (Paragon Comics) Category:Paragon Comics